Well, since my ranting post on Wednesday, Max has been a dream. No upturned chairs, no major crying jags, and more words every day. Maybe I just needed to vent in order to see the real, amazing kid he's becoming. Maybe our Wednesday, spent babying his busted lip and snuggling on the couch, soothed some transitional jitters he was feeling after the rest of the household trotted off to work and school.
Whether we've turned a corner, or I've regained my composure, he's been a sweetheart. A sweetheart in a homemade bibliophile superhero cape!
"What happened?" he asks after anyone near him gasps, laughs, or acts excited, sad, or amused in any way.
"I'm sorry," he says if he accidentally leaps on you from the sofa or gets carried away and bumps into the puppy too roughly.
"Again? Daddy, again?" He prompts his own encore after any new trick (lately a silly, all-boy sound effect he makes with his nose... hilarious, and not to be encouraged!). He'll keep saying "again" until someone agrees with him and he can repeat his performance.
"I do, I do" is his constant refrain. Unless it involves knives, the oven, or the car, I agree.
"Mama, mama you can't get me-eee." He teases, begging for a game of tag.
"Scout, sit, I give you a treat." He says, while holding the treat high above his head. Thankfully, Scout has learned to sit well enough, that she'll respond to him!
So there he is, my boy, the entertainer, his sisters' pet, his daddy's shadow, his puppy's brother, and his momma's helper. Sometimes a wild card and a hulk, but most often he's just Super Max, the center of attention.